Page images
PDF
EPUB

6

WINANDERMERE.

Beyond, along the vifta of the brook,
Where antique roots its bustling path o'erlook,
The eye repofes on a fecret bridge,

Half grey, half fhagged with ivy to its ridge.

Sweet rill, farewell! To-morrow's noon again
Shall hide me, wooing long thy wildwood strain;
But now the fun has gained his western road,
And eve's mild hour invites my fteps abroad.

While, near the midway cliff, the filvered kite
In many a whistling circle wheels her flight;
Slant watery lights, from parting clouds, apace
Travel along the precipice's base :
Cheering its naked wafte of fcattered ftone,
By lichens grey, and feanty mofs, o'ergrown;
Where fcarce the foxglove peeps, or thistle's beard;
And restless stone-chat all day long is heard.

How pleafant, as the yellowing fun declines,
And with long rays and fhades the landscape fhines;
To mark the birches' ftems all golden light,
That lit the dark flant woods with filvery white;
The willow's weeping trees, that twinkling hoar,
Glanced oft upturned along the breezy shore,
Low bending o'er the coloured water, fold

Their moveless boughs and leaves like threads of gold;

AN EVENING WALK.

The fkiffs with naked masts at anchor laid,
Before the boat-houfe peeping through the fhade;
The unwearied glance of woodman's echoed stroke;
And curling from the trees the cottage smoke.

Their panniered train a group of potters goad,
Winding from fide to fide up the fteep road;
The peasant, from yon cliff of fearful edge
Shot, down the headlong path darts with his fledge;
Bright beams the lonely mountain-horse illume
Feeding 'mid purple heath, green rings, and broom;
While the sharp flope the flackened team confounds,
Downward the ponderous timber-wain refounds;
In foamy breaks the rill, with merry song,
Dashed down the rough rock, lightly leaps along;
From lonesome chapel, at the mountain's feet,
Three humble bells their ruftic chime repeat;
Sounds from the waterfide the hammered boat;
And blafted quarry thunders, heard remote!

Even here, amid the sweep of endless woods,
Blue pomp of lakes, high cliffs, and falling floods,
Not undelightful are the fimpleft charms,
Found by the graffy door of mountain-farms.

Sweetly ferocious, round his native walks, Pride of his fifter-wives, the monarch stalks;

7

8

WINANDERMERE.

Spur-clad his nervous feet, and firm his tread;
A creft of purple tops his warrior head;

Bright sparks his black and rolling eye-ball hurls
Afar, his tail he clofes and unfurls ;

On tiptoe reared, he ftrains his clarion throat,
Threatened by faintly-answering farms remote.

Bright'ning the cliffs between where fombrous pine And yew-trees o'er the filver rocks recline;

I love to mark the quarry's moving trains,

Dwarf panniered steeds, and men, and numerous wains;
How bufy the enormous hive within,

While Echo dallies with the various din !

Some (hardly heard their chifels' clinking found)
Toil, fmall as pigmies in the gulf profound;
Some, dim between th' aërial cliffs defcried,
O'erwalk the flender plank from fide to fide;
These, by the pale-blue rocks that ceaseless ring,
Glad from their airy baskets hang, and fing.

Hung o'er a cloud above the steep that rears
Its edge all flame, the broadening fun appears;
A long blue bar its ægis orb divides,
And breaks the spreading of its golden tides;
And now it touches on the purple steep
That flings his fhadow on the pictured deep.

'Crofs the calm lake's blue fhades the cliffs afpire, With towers and woods, a "profpect all on fire; " The coves and fecret hollows, through a ray

Of fainter gold, a purple gleam betray.
The gilded turf arrays in richer green

Each speck of lawn the broken rocks between,
Deep yellow beams the scattered boles illume,
Far in the level foreft's central gloom.
Waving his hat, the fhepherd, in the vale,
Directs his winding dog the cliffs to scale,—-
That barking, busy, 'mid the glittering rocks,
Hunts, where he points, the intercepted flocks.
Where oaks o'erhang the road the radiance fhoots
On tawny earth, wild weeds, and twisted roots:
The druid-ftones their lighted fane unfold;
And all the babbling brooks are liquid gold;
Sunk to a curve, the day-ftar leffens still,
Gives one bright glance, and drops behind the hill.

In thefe lone vales, if aught of faith may claim, Their filver hairs, and ancient hamlet fame, When up the hills, as now, retreats the light, Strange apparitions mock the village fight.

A desperate form appears, that spurs his steed Along the midway cliffs with violent speed;

C

Unhurt purfues his lengthened flight, while all
Attend, at every stretch, his headlong fall.
Anon, in order mounts, a gorgeous show
Of horsemen-fhadows moving to and fro;
And now the van is gilt with evening's beam;
The rear through iron brown betrays a fullen gleam,
While filent ftands the admiring crowd below,
Loft gradual o'er the heights in pomp they go,
Till, but the lonely beacon, all is fled

That tips with eve's latest gleam his fpiry head.

Now, while the folemn evening fhadows fail,
On red flow-waving pinions, down the vale;
How pleasant near the tranquil lake to stray,
Where winds the road along a secret bay,
In all the majesty of ease divides,

And glorying looks around the filent tides;
Along the "wild meandering fhore" to view,
Obfequious grace the winding fwan pursue;
He fwells his lifted cheft and backward flings
His bridling neck between his tow'ring wings;
On as he floats, the filvered waters glow,

Proud of the varying arch and moveless form of snow,
While tender cares and mild domeftic loves
With furtive watch pursue her as she moves,
The female with a meeker charm fucceeds,
And her brown little-ones around her leads,

« PreviousContinue »